


Somewhat Damaged

by factorielle



Series: I You He [3]
Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Coming Out, Family, Gay Male Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-21
Updated: 2010-08-21
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/factorielle/pseuds/factorielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamada's almost forgotten the knot in the pit of his stomach when there's another knock on the door.</p><p>It's Izumi. The other one.</p><p>"Senpai," Hamada says, because "piss off", while relevant, would not be entirely appropriate. The feeling is there, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhat Damaged

**Author's Note:**

> Set about half a year before [I You He](http://archiveofourown.org/works/104731).

Izumi sleeps over that night for the first time ever, taking refuge from the storm in Hamada's studio and from the world in Hamada's bed. After he crashes on the sheets, shaking in all the good ways, it's almost like the drenched, insecure, terrified boy who knocked on the door earlier was never there.

Hamada knows better, though, and watches over his fitful sleep for an hour before he gives up on searching for a solution that's not his to find in the first place.

He wakes up to bright morning light, alone. The storm's gone; so is his unexpected bedmate. No trace of his presence but a convenience store ticket with _Thanks_ scribbled at the back in pencil, something he might as well have trashed without a second thought. He does trash it, of course, but only after resisting the fleeting temptation to fold it and keep it preciously in his wallet.

It's been a long time, he reflects, since it's occurred to him to _worry_ over Izumi.

But there are bills to pay and dishes to wash and he's almost forgotten the knot in the pit of his stomach when there's another knock on the door.

It's Izumi. The other one.

"Senpai," Hamada says, because "piss off", while relevant, would not be entirely appropriate. The feeling is there, though.

"Where is Kousuke?" the man demands, stepping inside.

Hamada wishes these brothers would sometimes do him the courtesy of basic greetings, or failing that, waiting to be invited before they barge in.

"Not here," he answers, immensely relieved that it's not even a lie. They're of a height now, and Hamada is pretty sure he could take him, but a part of him is forever in grade school, half looking up to and half terrified of the king of the playground. "Why?"

"His roommate said he might be here," Izumi-senpai answers, toeing off his shoes.

Hamada grits his teeth. Why would Mizutani do that? There's not a single scenario he can come up with in which divulging Izumi's location would be a good idea at this point.

"Well, he's not." The longer he can stick to the truth, the better. "Did something happen?" He almost sounds innocent, too.

Izumi-senpai shakes his head, looking around the studio as though he still suspects that his brother's hidden somewhere. "Just family stuff." And one wouldn't hear the shame and reluctance in his voice if they weren't listening for it.

"If you got Mizutani involved, it's pretty much public domain by now."

And with that sentence comes a terribly unfair thought: _and that's only half a lie, too_.

He doesn't dwell on it.

His visitor sits on the futon, heavily, and Hamada silently thanks his mother for teaching him to always make his bed, first thing in the morning. He can only pray that the smell of sex that's suddenly wafting to him is only in his imagination, but he can pray really, really hard.

"I saw him in Shinjuku last night," Izumi-senpai admits, looking down. "He was..."

He stops. Can't say it, or doesn't want to. Doesn't want to assume that Hamada knows already (unless Mizutani's babbled about that as well).

Or maybe he hasn't admitted it to himself yet.

"With a guy?" Hamada asks, trying to be gentle.

Izumi-senpai looks up sharply. Hamada feels himself take a step back. He's used to withstanding the full strength of Izumi's nastiest glares by now, but this is another level. His friend learned from a master.

"You knew about this and you didn't tell me?" he spits.

Hamada blinks. "It's... his life?" he answers tentatively. His life, his choices. His mistakes, sometimes. But he isn't answerable to anyone, and on this topic, neither is Hamada.

"I asked you to take care of him!"

It's kind of a surprise, that he remembers that. It's been what, twelve years? Certainly, it didn't stick in Hamada's mind quite as well as being held up by the collar by an angry sixth grader and hissed at that "the only one allowed to bully Kousuke is _me_" earlier that same year.

"I am," he answers, coolly, and bites down on another thought: _sometimes that involves bending him over and fucking him until he screams, but you needn't worry about that, because he took your advice to heart a long time ago, and there's no doubting that crybaby Kousuke knows how to take it like a man now._

"So what's he doing in Ni-chōme getting picked up by perverted old men?"

Or a salaryman barely over twenty-five, who'd looked terrified to be sitting in a gay bar but determined to see the evening through, and had somehow managed to catch Izumi's eye. He'd run away from the insults getting spat at him by the overprotective older brother, and even in his wretched state Izumi still found the time and energy to feel sorry for the guy and hope that wouldn't send him into a lifetime of hiding.

"He's old enough to do what he wants," Hamada says. "It's not hurting anyone and--"

"Fine, fine!" The man throws his hands up in the air. "I've lost that argument already. His roommate lectured me for half the night, I get it." He sighs, anger deflating as easily as it rose. "I just need to talk to him."

Treacherous thought number three: Mizutani argued against Izumi's brother on something that doesn't directly concern him?

Treacherous thoughts number four and four point five: He won that argument? _Really?_

Hamada scratches his head. "If his phone is off, there's not much I can do to find him," he points out. "You should probably give him some time to cool off, anyway."

Or let the wound heal a little, at least. _Filthy faggot_, Izumi quoted, sitting in pretty much the same place and position as his brother is right now and ostensibly not crying. _You should be ashamed of yourself, pervert._ And even if the words were intended at the man that accompanied him, that still didn't make it better. Izumi knows what he is, and how some people see him. That doesn't matter to him, mostly, but there _are_ people whose opinion he cares about.

Hell, the first time Hamada heard him say it out loud was on the phone, in a voice still quivering with elation. _I told Mizutani that I'm gay, and he didn't freak out. Too much._

Izumi-senpai shakes his head. "I don't want him to think... He's my brother. I have to talk to him. I screwed up."

_You can say that again_, Hamada doesn't say. "Let me try something."

He calls Mizutani, because it's still the best bet at any given time.

"He's... not here," Mizutani says when Hamada asks if Izumi's around.

"Is he shaking his head at you right now?"

A pause.

"Yes."

"Okay." Not the best possible answer, but there's no helping it if Izumi's sulking. Hamada glances at the man who's looking at him hopefully, and sighs. "Well, when he comes back, can you tell him that his brother wants to apologize for being a huge asshole? And he'll pay for lunch, too." That's the least he can do.

"You think so?" He sounds so hopeful, as though he's the one whose brother practically disowned him. Maybe he does care that much, after all.

"I'm sure of it," Hamada answers, smiling just a little. "Apparently, someone's lecturing really got through to him."

"Oh? Oh! That's... good, I guess?" It's almost endearing, how happy it makes him to be told he did something right. Hamada resists the urge to tell him how stupid it was to send the man here, especially if he believed that Izumi was actually there. Which begs a lot of questions, but those can be kept for later.

"Yeah. So tell your roommate to turn his phone back on, okay?"

They'll talk, and whatever comes out of that is their responsibility. They should be fine, Hamada thinks. In his overbearing, bullying way, senpai's always loved his little brother.

Now all Hamada can do is hope that he never, ever finds out exactly how _he_ learned about Izumi's preferences.


End file.
